make me want to be

today is the fifth week of all this
and each week you have marked the time
with tiny gifts--
crimson roses, blue bears, black books, and skittles
everything a rainbow
all starting with a yellow lily

it was all not to forget the countdown.

i never got you anything
because i don't think we should have to
i would rather pretend that things are endless,
sighing into one another with increasingly blurry edges
like double apple smoke

i wish i could write down the way
you have made me feel for five weeks
simple and annoyed
smart, unsure, and full
scared, patient, young,
connected, cared for, alive

thinking back on it again
it seems like a lot of time
and not really enough.

you started out by giving me a flower
but that's not the only one you gave

every day of the past thirty-five has been a flower
and has made me one, too
to bloom into someone new
to show me the immense beauty of that which is fleeting
to make me "open again and again,
without knowing how."

and for all that, i couldn't be more grateful. thank you.